90. A SILENT IMPORTANCE
/Charles/
"'I've opened an Instagram page, follow me if you like.'
With this message, Seb makes me sit up abruptly on the bed where Max and I have just fucked as a reunion for the last race before the summer break.
It's Wednesday, and I'm in a state of blissful calm with the endorphins still actively coursing through my sweaty, naked body, but when I read the message, I push Max away from my chest. Naturally he complains about my outburst mercilessly, but I ignore him and, after a 'No, don't tell me you've made up your mind!’, which isn't referring to the shocking opening of a social media profile, I rush to Instagram to find his profile and see that it's real and that he currently has only one follower:
Lewis Hamilton.
As soon as I see that he's already following him, I feel like I'm seeing confirmation of the shocking intuition that just ruined my wonderful fuck with my boyfriend, who's still lying on the bed moaning.
I'm the second to follow him, but since the page is empty and he doesn't have a single post, I go back to the chat and explicitly ask him to reply, since the man dares not.
‘So? You've decided, haven’t you?’
Since he's still ignoring me, and it drives me crazy when someone ignores me, I continue my torment with more similar messages.
‘Seb, reply!’
‘Seb!’
‘SEB!’
But since he still doesn't give a damn about me, he leaves me no choice but to get up and go to him. So without thinking or realizing I'm in bed with someone, I get up and ignore the aforementioned.
- Charles? - Max's hoarse, still-pleasure-filled voice reaches me vaguely, but I can't focus on him now because my heart is pounding and I'm about to walk to the door as I am: naked.
Just as I'm about to do so, Max's booming voice brings me back to reality.
- COME ON, CHARLES! WHAT'S THE ISSUE?! LOOK THAT YOU'RE NAKED!
Thanks to this, I realize he's right and I put on the first boxers I can find, his, and of course the first clothes I can find. Always his.
I don't know why, but I'm lucky he arrived in civilian clothes, so I'm not wearing anything Red Bull, or it would have been a mess.
- CHARLES, HOLY SHIT, ANSWER ME!
Max keeps shouting and for me to answer, he has to get out of bed, too naked, and grabs my wrist. I freeze and only when I turn to look at him, lost and shocked, and his worried face stares at me closely, does my brain reconnect and I don't know how, but I finally reply.
- Seb’s started an Instagram page!
Max stares at me, disappointed and disconcerted, immediately letting me go.
- So what? I thought something serious had happened!
Max has never been his teammate nor is he particularly close to him, even though Seb really likes him, so he can't know what this means.
I shake my head annoyed that he doesn't understand.
- Seb would NEVER start a social media page! If he does, it's only to make a big announcement. - silence. Max raises his eyebrows questioningly, still not understanding, and I huff and roll my eyes, tired of dealing with a retard like him. I think my face is frighteningly expressive right now, but as always it’s all thanks to him.
- Retirement, Max! Seb will announce his retirement!
And with that he puts his hand over his mouth and finally reacts to the news we're all about to receive.
But I'm not here to hear or see anything else.
I take the door and rush out; before I slam it behind me, Max emerges, still naked and unaware of the danger of being caught in the hallway by who knows who.
- Where are you going?
- To get an answer! - I blurt out. If he understands, fine, otherwise, to hell him!
Max can't understand. I think he could only if Daniel were the one to announce his retirement. Not that Seb is my ex, but the connection is still very significant.
Max doesn't chase me, I don't know if it's because he's naked and doesn't feel like getting dressed, or because he thinks I'm crazy and overreacting, or because he doesn't care about Seb's retirement in general.
Or rather, I know he does care, but not as much as I do.
As I head straight for Seb's room, which I know because he always tells me which one it is in case I need to hide Max's body—his support is truly unique, but I appreciate it very much—the question is still racing through my still-crazy brain.
Why am I reacting so badly and so dramatically? I've never been so impetuous, impulsive and agitated. I've always taken things in a restrained way. Has Max now infected me and freed me to this extent?
But I don't have time to find an answer, because I'm about to reach his door and knock it down.
It opens before I can really break it down, and his scruffy face, in that hippie-hobo style he's been wearing this year, reveals to me.
Seb is in his boxers and stares at me stunned, obviously not expecting me to rush over.
I walk right in uninvited, and as soon as I step into his room, I find Lewis spectacularly naked, sitting on the king-size bed that’s unmade as ours. Apparently, they too test the beds as first thing when they arrive at the hotels. It probably depends on what they did before coming to town, but I can think we're exactly the same, and it’s better that Max stayed over there; if he'd seen Lewis naked and so well-endowed, I'd have killed him.
Damn, he's well-endowed for real!
He immediately covers himself with the sheet and looks at me shocked by my audacity, and only then, with his overly expressive and annoyed face, do I remember why I rushed in and turn to Seb, still at the door which he's promptly closed.
I spread my arms in protest and widen my eyes.
- If you'd answered me, I wouldn't have bothered you! - I immediately justify myself, dotting my i's and crossing my t's first thing.
Seb sighs and rolls his eyes in an extraordinarily patient manner. In his place, I would have thrown him out.
- Yes, Charles, that's why. I wanted you to know like the others will know…
At this point, I start shooting again, Max-style.
- I’m not like the others! Didn't you think it was appropriate to tell me before? - I grumble, taking a step toward him, hands on my hips.
Seb raises his hands nodding apologetically, and I immediately calm down.
- Yes, sorry, you're right. It's just that I recorded this video a few days ago to explain everything and I didn't know how to share it, and today Lewis gave me the idea for an Instagram profile, saying that in one day I'd have so many followers I wouldn't need to organize any special events or conferences...
Seb is rambling on purpose to distract me, but I take another step forward, returning to pointing at him with annoyance.
- How long have you been thinking about that? - he thinks he's driving me crazy with his flurry of words and his big blue eyes, so similar to Max's, only less dark. Who does he think he's talking to?
Seb snorts and Lewis laughs. Got it!
- Did you think you could fool him?
- Well, excuse me, but if you tell me to follow your page, do you think I don't understand the real reason? There must be a reason you told me to follow you! Or did you do the same thing with everyone?
I know that's not the case; for example, Max hasn't received a single message.
He has to take responsibility, after all.
He did everything he could to gain a special place in my life; I didn't want to give it to him, especially after we drifted apart in the end of 2019. But he did so much that he became an important figure, after that. A family member, I dare say.
I don't have special places for anyone other than Max, but Seb does.
He couldn't think of not telling me about this decision before anyone else. Excluding Lewis.
- Yes, sorry, I didn't think you'd be upset. It wasn't my intention, but ever since I decided, I’ve been overwhelmed by so many things that have taken over, and I was dazed and didn’t understand a fucking thing. It's not that I've forgotten you or that you're not important, as you can see, you are...
Seb speaks to me calmly and indulgently, while I struggle to keep still; I feel like I should do something, but I don't know what.
Emotions are overflowing like they've never done before, and I think they show in my panic; Seb is obviously surprised.
- I’m sorry! Are you sure? - I ask, realizing I've been selfish enough to focus the issue on myself, as if he'd wronged me, who I’m the most important person in the world.
We're talking about something that concerns him, which is significant in a way that few announcements in F1 could be right now.
- Yes. - Seb says softly. But at this point, a huff from the bed makes me snap open my eyes, which were starting to burn. I look for Lewis, who I see partially shaking his head and looking out the window.
- You… you don't agree? - I ask puzzled. Seb makes a funny face.
- Not exactly...
- Not exactly?! I'm not at all! - Lewis' tone is, to say the least, polemical and frank. He's always controlled and polite, a bit like how I try to be in public. I think he and I are very similar, actually.
And damn, Seb and Max have something in common, besides their early careers. They're both very outspoken, for example.
But I focus on Lewis and Seb, whom I'm seeing naked for the first time. In many ways. All of them, actually.
- You don't think he'll retire, or that he's just not sure?
Lewis has one leg bent and one arm resting on his knee, his hand hanging down clenched in a fist, then his exasperated gaze turns back toward us, but he looks at me to answer me spontaneously.
- No, of course he's sure. He's certain and convinced about retiring. Right now. But I know he won't actually do it. Or rather, maybe he'll stay home for a year, maybe two. Then he'll come back. It's not a real goodbye, I'm sure of it! It's early, too early to truly retire!
It's like having inserted a plug I didn't know existed; Lewis starts and doesn't stop, and I realize how much alike we are once again. He looks like me with Max when we argue.
I give a spontaneous smile. His reaction is so normal and sweet. It's so consistent with their love.
They're very sweet.
Seb sighs and sits on his foot in bed, placing a hand on his head, giving an amused, condescending smile.
- Okay, we'll see who's right. - then, after magically turning Lewis off, he turns to me with a more serene expression. - Right now I'm sure of it. I need a break from F1. I can't find any joy or satisfaction anymore. Racing like this doesn't make sense anymore. I need to unplug and do something else. The video I'll upload tomorrow will explain my reasons clearly.
Lewis' frown distracts me; it's so endearingly childish. Looking at him absentmindedly, I realize I really did interrupt them with my usual arrogance; so, scratching the back of my neck mortified, I bow my head.
- Sorry for the intrusion! I didn't think, I... I was shocked. We'll talk about this again when I don't interrupt anything.
Because I feel the need.
I don't know, it's as if this thing is affecting me more than I realize right now.
He tries to tell me there's no problem, but I don't let him finish because I run away in embarrassment.
What an idiot I am.
They're going through a very delicate moment and I'm busting their balls. I'm really a spoiled little prince, as Max says.
Seb is leaving F1.
Damn, what a shock.
I wasn't ready for this, I don't know why. But I wasn't.
When I return, Max is playing PlayStation naked, as handsome as mom made him, and he doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by the news I left him with.
He barely notices my return, giving me one of those empty nods you get when he's lost in some stupid game; but I'm pleased to note that at least he hasn't started sim racing, something he does practically constantly when I'm not around and he has no work commitments whatsoever.
I roll my eyes and snort, shaking my head. He, thinking I'm doing this because he almost ignored me, pretends to be interested and, with inappropriate enthusiasm given what I'd run out for, asks: - Hey, so how did it go?
But the question is so generic that I know he doesn't remember what he's asking me about, because his brain is now completely absorbed in the fights he's having in the video game. Idiot.
I give him the worst look of the day, a sharp blade the gentleman hasn't received in a long time, a look he ignores because he's obviously still playing.
You're an idiot, Max Verstappen.
But I don't say it out loud because I'm still in shock from Seb's revelation, which is about to turn me into depression.
I can feel it right around the corner, so go to hell, if he wants to stay there, I know who to go to for comfort.
After returning home, grunting an annoyed: - It’s just as I thought! -, I pick up my phone and leave again.
As soon as I'm outside, I text Pierre and ask him what he's doing and if we can meet up, as I have some shocking news to tell him.
I share everything with him, basically, until I had to hide everything about Max from him out of politeness; but then I started telling him everything again, and it's only natural that I run to tell him.
Pierre will be the only one who understands me, the only one in the world!
Screw Mex!
- Hey! - his voice, however, surprises me as he calls me from behind. My eyes widen and I whirl around like a maniac.
- We’re in the hallway! - I hiss through gritted teeth, while our secrecy instinctively remains the top priority in my life.
‘You idiot, what are you yelling at?’ hat's what my stern eyes are clearly saying.
Max remains naked while his head, and only his head, peeks out from the open door. He's naked, but I can't see it completely. I press my lips together like a madman and narrow my eyes, hoping to make him understand that he must obey me for once in his life and come back inside; but he holds out his arm in a confrontational way, insisting.
- What’s wrong? Where are you going?
So, to prevent my lucky stars from running out, I go back, roughly shoving him inside so that people might see me talking to someone without knowing who the idiot is.
I stand there annoyed, hands on my hips, looking like I'm delusional.
- Come on, Max! What if someone sees us? You're naked and you just showed up from my room!
- It’s mine! - as soon as he says it with his typical instinctive polemical streak, I feel like punching him in the face, but since I'm not the violent type, I realize he's right. I make a childish grimace and change the subject.
- I’m going to talk to Pierre about it; he'll definitely be the only one who understands me right now!
As soon as I say it, his eyes light up with a wild light that almost makes me horny and want to jump on him again. Especially since he keeps standing naked in front of me.
- And what's wrong with me? - he blurts out, clearly jealous; he never hides it, not even tries.
Pleased with this little unexpected revenge, I answer frankly and mercilessly.
- The heart! You don't give a damn if Seb retires, while Pierre will cry with me!
At this, Max instinctively starts arguing again.
- But why do you have to do this? I was waiting for you while I was playing something less exciting, I didn't even put on headphones so I wouldn't talk to anyone online! You know I like so it when I play, unless I'm with you and...
At this pathetic harangue, my balls start to turn again and I pull the door, which would close on his foot if he didn't pull it back with his usual excellent reflexes.
I turn to leave even more pissed off than before, but he opens the door again. Before I can hear his damn sexy voice, I whip around and tell him another one of the things that just pissed me off.
- You didn't even know what you were asking me about, or what I meant by 'It's just as I thoughts!' You asked automatically, but you couldn't remember what it was because you were so wrapped up in that shit! You must have asked yourself, 'What was he thought?'
I can tell by his expression that I hit the nail on the head, and I really want to throw him out the window!
I like playing games too, but I hate it when he does it without me. There are certain things we have to do together because we both like them. Sim racing is a different story because we both have our own online groups where we do them. I often race with George, Alex and Lando, for example; he has his friends. There's no problem with that, we each have our own space, but other types of games we both like to play, it irritates me if he does them without me.
Max is unprepared and opens his mouth to respond, but he realizes I'm right, and since he doesn't know how to lie, he closes it right back.
I bite my own to keep from jumping on his neck and strangle him; it would have been better if he had tried another stupid defense that wouldn't have helped anyway!
I'm about to leave increasingly pissed off, but I stop again and turn around, pointing my finger and a ferocious fury: - And anyway, if you'd come with me, you'd get Lewis completely naked!
I turn around again, but I go back to glaring at him, still pointing my finger and looking really, really childish and furious: - And he's damn well endowed!
With that, I leave without stopping.
Max knows that in these cases he has to let me cool off, and good for him, good old Pierre is always the method. Now I almost always run into him when I'm pissed off at Max; sometimes I go to Carlos or George and Alex, but in any case, Pierre remains my favorite choice.
I think he's actually enjoying and maybe he realizes he almost hit a bullet by not staying my boyfriend.
When I reach him in his room, he's buzzing with excitement because he's as curious as a monkey. Pierre opens the door immediately, making me immediately cool down. He grabs my wrist, pulls me into the bedroom, and is about to ask me what's going on, but his gaze focuses on my clothes, and with wide eyes, he stops, opens his hands, and with a particularly theatrical and idiotic gesture, says: - Wow, Charlie! You're squirting Max from every pore! - then he comes closer sniffing me, and then moves away in disgust. - You even fucked and you didn't wash!
My eyes widen and I smell myself, terrified at the thought of smelling of sex, but I don't think I can smell anything.
- Don’t tell me I stink, you know I hate that!
Pierre shakes his head and rolls his eyes in exasperation.
- No, you don't stink. I would have told you you stink, right?
So I glare at him sullenly without understanding, while he walks around the room always theatrical in everything he does, even walking.
- So?
- Max has a very specific perfume, Armani, to be precise. I know you used it too for a while, because I recognize all the perfumes, you know, but then you went back to your usual ones. If I remember correctly, he gave it to you for a birthday, right? Now you're full of Armani. And since you're wearing his clothes, clearly, it doesn't take a genius.
- Clearly his clothes, in what sense? - I look at myself for a moment, judging myself dressed normally. - I think I'm dressed normally!
Pierre's eyes widen, obviously.
- Exactly! You don't dress normally anymore, and I'm glad you've let your extroverted side loose... but these clothes are perfectly normal, and since I know who you're with...
I huff rolling my eyes. In the end I'd never get out of this if I kept going, so I shake my head and swat him away like flies. Then I drop the bombshell.
- Seb retires, he'll announce it tomorrow!
And with his shocked scream far surpassing my own, I finally feel right with the universe.
Finally, someone understands me!
What I said to Pierre resonates in my mind now that I'm sitting here with Seb in the hotel bar, each waiting for his own boyfriend.
Normally, Max is the one who waits for hours, but in this case, Seb had texted me: ‘Aperitif while waiting for dinner?’ And since we both know that I go out with Max on Wednesdays while he goes out with Lewis, it was obvious he wanted to talk to me calmly and explain.
I told Pierre earlier that I've never really thought about what Seb means to me; he simply meant something without realizing it. Pierre then played it down by saying that he's not going to die, but is just retiring from racing.
This helped me, but then I explained better—more to myself than to him—that Seb has ultimately always been a constant presence in my life as a driver; ever since I started racing as a kid, there was a lot of talk about him and Lewis, one because he was so young and the other because he was too strong. Everyone knew what Lewis would become when he arrived in F1, and Seb set many records for what he achieved at such a young age.
Then, when he became four-time champion that way, I obviously followed him more and admired him, although I preferred Lewis's driving style. Seb's, especially at the beginning, reminded me of Max's.
Finally, when we were teammates at Ferrari, it was like completing a cycle, in some ways.
I never thought of Seb as a truly special person in my life, but if I stop and think about it now, I realize that he actually became that. He never got noticed by me, he always acted in a transparent way, like a silent guardian angel; but he always gave me advice, he always seemed to support me, especially after we made up and he forgave me for my selfish behavior at the beginning of our collaboration. No one would have taken me back under their wing like he did after that, but Seb did, and I never understood why.
Maybe it's time to ask him.
After he explains his reasons, which are the most thorough version of what he told me this morning in his room, I sigh and shake my head shrugging, while my fingers hold the glass of tonic water with lime and ice.
During race week, we'd be in trouble if we drank anything alcoholic.
- And Lewis? - I ask without having to elaborate further. His eyes flicker with amusement, then tenderness, and he shakes his head and shrugs as if to justify him.
- He needs to believe it won't be definitive, but for me it is. I know myself well. I only have fun if I run well, and I only run well if I'm competitive. But to be competitive, I have to run well, and to run well, I have to have fun. It's a vicious circle. It's unlikely anyone will offer me a competitive package that will help me get back to who I was. I'm lost now, but that's okay. There are a billion things I like and want to dedicate myself to.
Seb talks about it calmly, cleverly deflecting the Lewis issue. I think it's a bit of a delicate situation, this one with him. I definitely won't force a double date; it's clear they need as much alone time as possible.
- Are you offended? - he asks when I'm silent.
I shrug and make various nods with my head, first indicating yes, then no, then more or less. He laughs, and his smile is beautiful and serene. As I look at him in this moment, I understand that he's completely at peace with himself and this choice; I haven't seen him like this in a long time, to be honest.
- A little, but it's obvious you've had a lot on your mind. It's just that you've suddenly made me realize you're more important than I thought.
A twisted thought that I express awkwardly, but he nods gently, understanding what it means. I think he's pleased to know how I feel and what I think of him.
- From a certain point on, you became like a sort of guide: you cared about me and even though I don't know why, given our history, you supported me without me asking you. You've helped me a lot.
Seb smiles awkwardly, this time his eyes sparkle with emotion and I find myself reciprocating goofily.
- It's almost as if by retiring you're telling us, 'Hey guys, now it's your turn for real!' And it's shocking. But I understand your point, and it's right that you do what you feel is right to feel good.
Seb nods, appreciating my maturity.
- That's right, I need it. I don't know what my future holds, but I have to move beyond this. I'm unmotivated to race, you know? That's never happened to me. - I nod, staring at the half-empty glass where the ice has almost completely melted; my fingers play with the condensation, thoughtful.
- Now the scene shifts to you and Max! - he then says suddenly, surprising me. Just hearing Max's name is enough for me, he notices it and bursts into laughter, and we both understand perfectly why.
- How are things going with him? - he then adds without having to specify the meaning of his question.
I look at him at first embarrassed, then as soon as I meet his paternal eyes, I realize the real, profound reason why I was so upset to know he was leaving.
Somehow I saw a bit of my father in him, perhaps because of their positive and honest ways, their similar outlook on things.
Sometimes, talking to him about personal things, I almost felt like I was talking to my own father. I think the advice he gave me was his own.
I rub my lips and look down a little embarrassed and a little ashamed.
Ashamed of myself.
- You know, what they said about him and his father is true. I think it's much worse. - the silence with which he greets me makes me understand that he knows exactly what I'm talking about and doesn't want to interrupt. So I continue aware that certain moments need to be captured, that we need to take advantage of the gifts we encounter.
- Since we've been together, I've slowly managed to get him to tell me a little. He tells me fragments or maybe explains their arguments, always evading, belittling and keeping the more to himself, as if he were ashamed to tell me or didn't want to take it out, accuse him. I don't quite understand how it's possible to go through what he went through and hold back, justify him, almost...
At this point Seb interrupts me, surprising me.
- It’s normal, actually. It's a defense mechanism. - he explains calmly. I look up and meet his serene blue eyes again, even if they're filled with sadness right now. Sadness and tenderness.
- He’s his father, and a son will always tend to justify his father in some way, no matter what he's going through. There will always be a part of him that will try, that will want to reconcile, and that hopes for a normal father.
What Seb says resonates in me; I understand even if I don't agree with it. But these are things that can be understood.
- Yes, but I don't know... it's as if… - I scratch the back of my neck, looking away as I think back to times we've had together when the subject comes up, and how he's always tried to avoid or downplay the things that happened to him. - You know, as if he doesn't really realize how bad and wrong what he's been through is. But when he tells me something, I shiver. It's truly horrible!
I don't know if I can explain myself well, probably not, but Seb immediately comes to my aid with his calmness and, in a faint, paternal voice, making himself heard only by me, he replies.
- Probably what he went through was so bad that, to survive as a child, he belittled it himself, distorting the reality he was living in. Now seeing what he's been through for what it really is, might be more difficult than having endured it.
At his suggestion, I shudder and my eyes widen, realizing that these aren't easy things we can talk about, or rather, that I shouldn't insist too lightly. I need to be more aware of what I'm trying to do.
- Should I just let it go? Instead of insisting on talking to me and opening up? You know, I think he just needs to vent and cry for himself. I don't think he should go to him and tell him who knows what; he needs to do it with himself, but every time we're there to talk about it, part of him wants to, the other runs away. It's a constant struggle.
Seb listens carefully to everything I say and finally shrugs regretfully.
- There’s no right or wrong. No one in the world knows him better than you. If you feel he needs this and that deep down he wants it, you have to wait for him to succeed and be ready for it when he does.
- What would you do in my place? If you were to discover that Lewis is experiencing deep distress, a serious issue with someone that was tormenting him, I don't know...
The need for a concrete answer takes over and makes me act insistently; he shrugs and sighs with an amused smile.
- Oh, I'm not a good example. I punched the person who was tormenting him and upsetting him, creating discomfort and complexes, so there's no point in you doing the same thing as me!
At this revelation I'm distracted, my eyes widening in shock.
- You what? And who did you punch? No one ever found out! And then you who punch someone? - I actually don't have a hard time believing it because I've seen that when his five-minute timer starts, his peaceful hippie look transforms into a crazy Rambo, so it's actually believable that he punches someone. But his laughter distracts me to the point that when Max and Lewis arrive from the elevators, I curse for the interruption.
- Oh, come on, you have to tell me!
Seb shakes his head and makes the locked mouth sign, grabbing his things from the coffee table and getting up while I remain seated, shocked.
- I know how to do things without getting caught! Anyway, don't follow my example, that's the gist of the matter! Always try to act for his own good and not for your own satisfaction.
With this final gem, he turns to Max and Lewis who are now at our table, and smiles brightly and radiantly, as if we hadn't just been talking about shocking and touching things. Lewis returns his smile, while Max looks at me perplexed, because I'm still sitting there shocked.
- Well, what did he tell you now? That he's becoming a priest?
His stupidity in dealing with things he knows deeply touch me should be studied in a lab!
At this piece of bullshit, I turn to him annoyed and offended, and, immediately coming to my senses, I jump up giving him the middle finger.
- No, but you could take a course in sensitivity! -
Max laughs at this, accompanied by Seb that knows and laughs, while Lewis is perplexed.
- You wouldn't like me if I were more sensitive!
I roll my eyes sending him to hell with a typically Italian gesture; with that I politely nods to Lewis and then give Seb a friendly pat, telling him I'm here for whatever he needs. Then, completely ignoring Max, I walk away annoyed like an offended prince.
It's true that I wouldn't like him if he were more sensitive, but he could at least make a little effort every now and then!
You idiot!”
NOTE: Sometimes I like to include what's happening around them, especially those who are important to them. Seb and Lewis are known to be my weak points, and I love to use them every now and then. At that time, the announcement of Seb's retirement was something I thought was important, especially for Charles. I took advantage to show his and Max's way of being together, which makes me laugh a lot in their contrast: one takes things too much to heart and is incredibly touchy, while the other jokes about everything and can't even be profound by mistake.
I used Charles and Seb to explain Max's issue and his defense mechanisms with his father. Let's be clear: I greatly exaggerated his childhood, because writing a fic it works like this.
Thanks to everyone who reads and comments.
Until next time. Kisses, Akane.